Leaving It To Time To Do The Rest
by Alwaysthestars
Summary: The Doctor's sonic is gone, kaput, dead. He has seventeen minutes to save the world, and all he can think about is the sonic sitting fried in the grass at his feet. Further explanation inside, I suck at summaries, sorry. Set during S5x01


**On one of the Who Facebook fanpages I run, we have a vlog (Life of a whovian fan-girl on Facebook, ThreeGirlsandaVlog on YouTube.). And when I accidentally had a video that was late due to technical difficulties, writing this fic was my resulting punishment. It had to pair the Doctor and his sonic in a way that was, of course, k-rated. ;) I chose to set it during S5x01, The Eleventh Hour. It'll be a slight bit AU, since I had to adjust the Doctor's mindset to accomplish my means, but very very little. The title comes from the song 'Dead And Gone' by Alex Day.**

He should have seen it coming. He really should have. His sonic had been sparking and malfunctioning since his regeneration, but he hadn't expected it to just burn out. It had been a long time since he'd had to replace a sonic, and now—with about fifteen minutes left until the end of the world, he was going to have to do it again.

He'd always had his sonic with him. Ever since his second life, he'd almost always had one, and it had been like an extension of his arm, of his mind. He picked up the charred remains from the grass beneath his feet, staring at it, fighting down the panic that threatened to rise in him. So this new body did panic. That was nice to know. _What was he going to do? _His chest heaved as he threw the sonic back to the ground. "No, no, _no_, don't _do_ that!" He yelled, anger rising. The effort of blowing out the phone box had been too much for it. How ironic.

He straightened, and looked up to see the Atraxi ship turning to leave. It was leaving and he had no way of stopping it. He felt helpless, and he didn't like it. "No TARDIS, no screwdriver… seventeen minutes… C'mon, think. _Think!"_ His hands began to shake with all the adrenaline coursing through his body, and he fought off the urge to pace. Instead, clenching his jaw, he went over to inspect the drain that Prisoner Zero had disappeared into. He couldn't tear his mind away from his screwdriver though, its familiar weight gone from his pants pocket and feeling like a missing leg. It had started out so humble a device, only able to unscrew a screw and open a door, and as every version passed on he had added new capabilities and functions until it had grown into the perfect and nearly indispensable multitool. Now, it could do everything from opening doors to sealing them again, to repairing barbed wire and frying the controls of a lift, performing body scans and reprogramming computers. It could boost radio signals, aid in rewiring a device… it had thousands of settings now, and he knew every one.

And that sonic had been special to him. It had been the model he had carried ever since the Time War, built after his previous one had been destroyed. It had stuck with him—not flawlessly, he would admit, remembering the incident with the Judoon when it had fried on him when he was attempting to defeat the slab in the x-ray room—but it had always done what he needed, and protected him and his companions on countless occasions. He remembered how it had saved Rose in the basement of Henricks', Martha on the moon, and Donna countless times that first Christmas.

As he stood there, Rory and Amy chattering away in the fringes of his hearing, he found himself starting to form a plan. It was mad, insane even for him, but it just might work. Mad seemed to be this new body's MO, anyway… And improvisation seemed to be the name of the game, considering the circumstances he was working under. He ran his hand over his face and through the ridiculous hair this body had. Even floppier and crazier than his last one.

…

The photos, the clock, the phone, the computer virus, hours later the Atraxi were defeated, the Earth once again returned to normal. He'd gotten a new wardrobe out of it, too, so that was a plus. And now he was about to show Amy Pond, this wonderful ginger girl who he had unintentionally abandoned so many times, the inside of the TARDIS. As she looked around, he thought about all the other companions he'd had walk through those doors, the scenes replaying in his head. _Blimey, regeneration sure does seem to be making me nostalgic._ But he was allowed to be. He'd lost a lot recently, topped off with the sonic just today, which had been the one thing he hadn't expected to lose. He'd even hoped that it would be the one thing to cross over from his previous regeneration, after his companions had been lost and his TARDIS basically all but blew up. If anything, nostalgia was to be expected. Pulling the remains of his old sonic from his pocket, he stored it in a recently discovered compartment in the console. Why he'd kept it he didn't quite know, and he knew it was useless now, but it didn't matter. Did he have to have a reason for everything?

As Amy wandered around the console, wide-eyed, he heard a musical, mechanic _wheep._ He looked down to see a new sonic sliding out of a gap in the console.

"Oh, a new one! Lovely…" He held it out in front of him, trying it out for size. It was bigger than his old one in both length and width, with a green light this time and an extendable claw at the end. He hated to admit it, but this one fit this new hand better than his previous model had. It would be a suitable replacement, he thought. "Thanks dear," he whispered to the TARDIS. She gave a mechanical hum in reply. And now Amy was officially coming—she was quite the stubborn one, wasn't she—and he had a new sonic and a new TARDIS and a new friend…

"Goodbye Leadworth, hello… everywhere." He said, pulling one final lever. And with a great lurch, they were off.

**So yes. There we are. Just a short little thing, I suppose. Thanks to my wonderful friends Alix Cohen and Haninator for the beta. :) **


End file.
